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INDIAN STOKICS 

AS KKLATKD BY 

Tin: -T()I<v-ti:lli:k 

^rAi:( A INDIANS 

IKANSCRIBKD BY 

.!( )1IN W . ^ \N I^.OK'N. \. M. 

()A() <iA-\\KH 

•'S/v Wit hot, I a Clou.l" 






MF.MBtR (JF 

! rS, . . VN V l.,lcr.r> S.r.rt,, TVr Frirnd.h.|. N > 

l..r..l.> H,.. .1 CI.,!,. Thr Boff.l.. tl riy. Buff.l.. St. 

riy of Natural S.-.rrrr.. Thr Onr.d. H ..y ol Utir. N. '^ 

Ur Br.L.K Folk-Urr S..r,rl>. TKr I „|,on f.r W. 

Ailv«n<-rr»irn( i>l Srirnrr, and FrIloM oi The American A> - 
For iKr AdvanrrmrnI o( Srienrc. 



1 i:ii;ni»sii:i'. m.w \ < 'i;i\ 



TO 

SUPERINTENDENT OF THE 

THIS BOOK OF INDIAN STORIES 
IS DEDICATED 
BY THE AUTHOR 



COPYRIGHT 

BY JOHN WRNTWORTH SAXBOHX 

191.5 



^^ L 



Made in Friendship. New York. U. S. A 



MAR -8 1915 

CI,A393897 



I'UKIATOIO NOTi:. 
o 

^rill. >i.M-.(A INDIANS nlatr to tl.cn .•l.il- 
' <litrn many weird tales of witelies, pliosts aii«l 
ii\ iMU li»;i<ls. with tlie t\V()-f(»I<l piirpcjse of entertain- 
iiiH tlicrii ami iinpartinn kiiowledjic of the marriage 
ami Wiiiial (Mi-.toms <»f the tribe. 

In the lorij: winter evenings a story-teUer, wlioin 
>otne family .secures for the occa'^i(»n,--an(l lu' mii>l 
l»e oiu- of the aiithori/e<| story-tellers of the tril»e-- 
crootjs out tin* legendary lore to an ea^er c<Mn|)any 
of ohi and yoiin^;. 

I'^ach person pays triltuic to the >t«»r\ teller: one 
uivinn an ear of r(»rn: an<»ther, an apple; a third, a 
potato, or turnip, and s(» on until all have niven. 

In return for learning the laii^uaKe and making 
translations into the SetU'ca tongue of hymns and 
other matti-r. the writer was ado|)ted into the Irihe 
with imposing ceremony, and ui\en the Indian name 
of < )-vo-na-weh. "Skv without-a-c|oud," and made 
chief. f..r life, of the Clan of Wolves in which an* 
^cNentceii hun<lred Indians, and honored liy th<- 
( 'ouncil with the narration l»y the official -lory 
teller, of the Ic^ciuls of the trihe. 

Of the many stories thus related, a f«'W ch.iracter- 
istic ones are jjiven in this hook. 

The picturi's hIjow Mrs. Kinjj Tandy Jemison of 
the AllcfiJiny Senerju*. in hroadcloth dross and d<'er- 
>kin overdress ornainentetl with l»ea<lwork ami sil- 
\ «r hrooches which were hammered out of <|uarter- 
dollars, fifty-cent pieces and dollars. 

There are, on this dro.ss, sixty silver dollars thus 
h.immt-red out, iM'sides many other silver pieces. 

The style of this costume is the same th.it pre- 
\ aileil five hundred years ago. The material then 
used was not cloth hut deerskin tjiiuied in sm«»ke 
.md made s<»ft like vilvet. and the ornamentation 
done with por«'upine (piills instead of silver dollars. 

Th.it a style of dress should not li.ive changed a 
particle in five centuries is <|uite remarkahle ! 

March 1st. l'.»i:. .loHN \V. SANHOliN. 




MRS. JEMISON IN INDIAN DRESS 




MRS .IKMISON IN FL l.l. INDIAN COSTUME 



CHAPTEF^ 



'i-iii; MAN wiin n PvM:i) i\'i<» a I'.i ah 



I.ITTLE boy lived in a bark-house 
\Nith an olfl nian w hf) called n i m 
his nephew. The boy was a good 
hunter, and k«'pt the old man well 
supplied with l)ear s meat. 

Growing older, the bo\ strf)lled 
each day larther awny from the 
wiU^N.'ini, and flu* old man said to 
him, M\ ntph«-\N, be \er\- care- 
liil i)<ii lo \s and«T to(» lar to the 
north; it will not be safe. 

\\ hat can uncle mean f)y that ^ 
I will take his advice and be care- 
ful, but I will ^(o that wny and know the reason. 

So he started, not meaning to run into dan- 
grr. but ordy to Irarn \\\\y the old uncle warned 
him. lie found all kinds oi game in plenty, and 
was allured [)>• the game to gf) a great distance. 
Suddenly he discov<*red what to him was very 
strange, the track of a huge bear; .s<> large and 
heavy was the bear that at every step his great 
weight pressed his feet deep down below the 
surface, and so fat was he that the footprints 
were filled with oil which flowed down his legs. 

"I will follow this wonderful track.' said the 
bo\-, "ami kill this great bear. ' 




7 INDIAN STORIES 

The track appeared to be lately made, for the 
weeds which the bear trod down were slowly 
straightening themselves up again. He followed 
the track, forgetting, in his eagerness, all about 
the old man in the wigwam far away, and soon 
came to a bark-house which contained a large 
family, and among them quite a number of girls. 
He asked an old woman when the bear went by, 
and she, pointing to the youngest girl, replied. 
"When that girl was a baby; but the animal is 
not a bear, it is a man." 

"She is a foolish old woman. She does n't 
know a bear from a man, ' muttered the nephew 
to himself. "I know it is a bear's track, and I 
will follow it." 

In his journeying he reached another house, 
where lived an old man, and asked, "Haksoot, 
(grandfather) when did the great bear go past?" 

"That is the track of your uncle who went 
past. He made the track to catch your atten- 
tion. He will be glad to see you. I moved into 
this house when he made the track that I might 
have this oil to eat on my corn-bread.' 

"I know this is a bear's track and not a man's," 
the nephew kept muttering. 

He continued to follow the track, and soon 
reached another house, and there the track end- 
ed. Near this house there was a deep ravine 
and not far ofT a lake. 

Knocking at the door, he asked, 'When did 
the great bear go past? I am after him. I am 
going to shoot him." 

"My nephew," said the man in the house, "you 
have at last come home and I am glad. I made 
the track and filled it with oil to catch your mind 



l\niA\ STORIES s 

and lead you home. That old man who told you 
not to go to the north stole you away from this 
house when \ou were tweke moons (twelve 
months) old. It was lodged in my mind to show 
you the way home, so I made the track. The 
old man will come for you, but he shall not get 
you. I will command my house to turn to stone, 
niid he cannot hurt \'ou. 

.;: .': :!c * 

I he old man in the lorest wondered what had 
hccome of the boy. He feared that his orders 
were disobeyed, and that the boy had found the 
(ra'-k; sf) h.- started very early thf next morning 
to look him up. fie found the bo>' s track near 
the track (»f the l)ear. 

Yes, nn neph«"\\ has surel> found out w h\ I 
told him not to go to the north; I n\ dl follow him. 
ISut first I will turn into a griz/lv bear, and he 
will see mr and Ix- afrnul and I can catch him 
and bring him back. 

The old man accordmgK" tunird into a \ (Tn 
fcroi'ious looking bear and started on the run. 
Ktaching th<* lirst bark-house he halted, and en- 
(inired it tin- boy had gone past; he was told that 
be had. I l«- burned on, asking thr same tjues- 
tion at the next house, and recei\uig the same 
answ<T. Soon he reached lh<' house where 
tb<- boy \\ as. \\ ben the l)()\'s own uncle saw 
ibc bear approacbiii"^. be said to the bark-house. 
Let my house become a ston<-! and it turned 
into on..' shaped like a mound, with a \ <Ty 
small hoir for an entrance. The uncle and iirpb- 
e\s remain«(l within. 

Tb«- bear said, 

"^ ou ba\-e in\- bo\-, and no\s let us decide b\ 



9 INDIAN STORIES 

a fight who shall keep him. You come out here 
and we will fight." 

"No, you come inside if you want to fight," 
said the uncle, and the boy laughed. 

At this the bear became very angry, and at- 
tempted to push his paw into the entrance and 
to open it wider, but he did not succeed, for the 
uncle lighted a pine-knot and set fire to the 
bear's paw. The bear withdrew his paw and 
tried to brush off the fire with the other paw, 
but his fur was so oily that, instead of putting 
the fire OJt, he set fire to the other paw. He 
ran to the lake and plunged into it, but the lake 
was not water but oil, and he set it all afire and 
was consumed in it. 

The house became a bark-house again, and 
the uncle went to the lake and blew out the fire. 

They lived together in happiness, fished, and 
trapped, and hunted, and had all good things in 
abundance. 




CHAPTER II 
i{i:sT()Ki:i) i:vi.s 

^pEN BKUTllLKS lived to^jelher in a tireat 
I forest: their only occupation was hunting. 
It was their custom whenever they went 
hunting to keep together until they reached the 
top ol a certain hill; then they separated, going 
in din<'r<-nt directions, and. at a certain time m 
the e\«Miing twilight, coming together on the hill 
to compare game. So a heaten trail was made 
from their dwelling to the hill. 

One evening, to their great surprise, as lhe>' 
were returning home, they discovered a woman s 
track going in the direction of their dwelling. 

I h<* oldest hrothi-r was accustomed to lead 
their line of march, and the youngest to hring 
up the rear. 

rh»< oldest was very homely, hut lor all that 
he had long wanted to Imd him a wife. He was 
the first to discover the trn( k, and kept wishing 
that he might find the w > n in sitting at his place 
near the lire. 

rh«' Indian custom has always heen that, if a 
woman, seeking a hushand — and they have al- 
wa> s regarded it as one of woman s first rights 
to choose her own husband — should sit on the 
seat ol the man sh<* woo««d and he take up and 
bite the bread she brought, the match was con- 
summated. 

rii'- t )re'nost of t!ie ten brothers eagerly tol- 



11 INDIAN STORIES 

lowed the track. His mind was so absorbed 
with thoughts of the woman and her track that, 
when he stubbed his toe against a root, he fell 
flat, and the force of the fall made the thoughts 
in his mind explode into the words, "1 wish she 
be on my seat," and the brothers laughed. 

To his delight, and their chagrin — for every- 
one of them, as they afterwards confessed, se- 
cretly had hope — she sat at his place. He took 
the bread and bit out of it such a large mouthful, 
and so eagerly that you would have thought he 
was starvingto death for that very loaf ! 

She had prepared supper for all the ten and 
they praised her. They were glad, after all, 
that she wedded their oldest brother, because, 
for a long time he had hoped a wife would come 
to him, but none came he was so homely, and 
his failures made him cross. So they were glad 
for now ne was not cross. 

Well, she prepared the food morning and 
evening for all the brothers and gathered wood 
for their fire. 

One day she was taken sick, and every min- 
ute grew worse so that none of them went hunt- 
ing that day. 

"I am very sick," she said, "and there is only 
one medicine that will cure me. ' 

"What is it? What is it?" they all cried. 

"I cannot get well unless the youngest broth- 
er will stand by the door and face me. Then 1 
get well. 

"That is very easy medicine," said one of the 
brothers. But the youngest brother feared some 
trick, and asked, 

"Why can't I stand here by my seat?" 



**No, he must stand by the door, ' she said. 

His brothers urtfed hini, and he stood by the 
door. 

Iii9taiitl>' she spranti forward like a tiifer and 
uent with a rush through the open door, and 
u hen she had gone it was found that she had 
dug out the eyes ol the youngest brother. The 
nine ran in pursuit of her. They gained upon 
her and *ver«- jjst about to seize her; she cried 
out {() the hurricane \\ hich la\' sleeping near i)> 
and it au oke and destroNed the nine brolhe-rs 
and she escaped. I he filind f)rother was K-fi 
alone. 

A large dog and a hide girl — th«- child of the 
woman — were spared also. W hen the little girl 
knew what had happened to her uncle she was 
\ cry sad. I)ul she t )l(l him that *-he w(juld car** 
for him. and not to fe<d badl>. 

She gathered sticks lor their lire and the dug 
alwa\s att<*n(h'(l lu'r; but one day she went out 
while the dog was asl<M-p Sudderdy. the blind 
man and the dog heard the girl cr> out in great 
distress. The dog sprang out and saw the poor 
girl rising from the ground. A man with wings 
VN as carrying her off. The dog jumped to catvdi 
her. but could only reach her moccasins which 
be pulled nW and carried into the bark-house 
and dropped at the blind man s feet, then, cod- 
ing up into a heap near the lire, he turned into 
a round stone. 

I he winged man llew olT w ith the girl, carr\ - 
ing her abo\-e the tree tops and over a large 
b)d\' of water and alighted on an i.->Ian(l This 



13 INDIAN STORIES 

was his home. There were several children 
there, and the girl wondered what it all meant. 

The man was very hungry, and he told one 
of the children to fetch some water. He put 
the kettle on the fire and placed a piece of bark 
on the ground pnd when the child came with 
the water he told her to sit down. He struck 
the child with a club and killed her; then de- 
voured the body. The next morning he flew 
away again, but returned at night without a vic- 
tim. He told the next girl to fetch some water 
and then the next, and served them all alike. 

The last one saw that she would be killed in 
a short time, so she tried to escape. She went 
after water, and, standing close to the lake gave 
a strange cry, and the voice of an old man re- 
sp nded calling her by name. She followed 
the voice and soon saw two men m a canoe. 
They told her to hurry into the canoe, and put 
a paddle out, and she stepped upon it into the 
canoe. They paddled away. They told the girl 
that the monster would be very angry and try 
to kill them all, but they would protect her. 

Just then they heard a strange noise. It was 
the voice of the monster calling the girl. As she 
did not answer, he went out to find her, dut he 
was so excited that he forgot to put on his wings. 

He found her track and followed it to the 
lake. Looking up, he saw the canoe and the 
men and the girl, and he was very mad, so mad 
that he did not think to go back for his wings! 

He lay down and sucked all the water of the 
lake down his throat. The island rose as if by 



I.MjLW ^ 7 OKIES 14 

magic out of the water like a mountain, because 
tile monster drew the lake into his stomach. 
I he canoe was at once in the midst of swift 
rapids and shot towards the dark gulf ol the drag- 
on s throat. One of the men seized the beaver- 
spear, and, as they neared the monster who was 
now bloated up mountain- high, he pierced him, 
.ind instantK the water gushed out and drove 
ihr c.inoe swiftly awa\' and all escaped. The 
lv\«) men stood up near each other in the canoe 
and became one. This double man went ashore 
across the lake and led the little girl to his wig- 
u an), and he asked his mother w ho lived with 
liim to care for tlir girl, and this sIk- u as \ crv' 
•» illmii to do. 

When the girl becam«- a woman sh«' inarrird 
tile (louhh- man who had sn\rd Iht life .At 
liMimli tuiii l)«)\s \Kfrr bom lo ilirm. and the 
old \S()man \v as (hspleas«'d and tlir<'\\ them in- 
to the lakr; but the u aves sent them to the 
shore. She tlirru them in again, but saw at last 
that th«y could creep, and in a little w hile th«-y 
stood on their feet and ran au a\- from the wa- 
ter. 1 hen she becam«' i)h'asant lo them and 
iii.idc thrill a netted ball-club and a ball 
I h«\ «iijo>«-(l ph;\ ing liall. 

( h\r (l.iy the\ becam«' so excited in their pla\' 
that the> sent the ball across the clearing and 
o\ (T the lr«'es. The\' chased it and soon came 
into a larger clearing, and her«* the>- pla\fd v'\ - 
er\- da\-, going honu* at night. One morning the 
hall bounded to lh«* top of a knoll and .suddenly 
(hsa[)|)eared. I he\ ran to lind it, but it u as no- 
\N here to be seen. .After hunting for it a long 



15 INDIAN STORIES 

time, and just as they were about to give up the 
search, one of them spied an opening at the top 
of the knoll. Looking down, they saw a large 
room, and on the floor lay a man who held their 
ball in his hands. 

"There must be a door to this strange house," 
said one of the boys to the other. Searching, 
thej' found it and went in. The man was blind. 
They pitied him. They brought water, washed 
his face and he thanked them. It is a mark of 
great respect for a young Indian to wash the face 
of an aged or helpless person. 

The blind man gave the boys their ball. 

They went home, but said nothing about their 
discovery. 

Very early the next morning they returned to 
the home of the blind man. They asked him 
how he lost his eyes, and he answered: 

"My brother's wife stole my eyes when she 
made me stand by the door facing her." 

"Uncle, we will get you some eyes to use." 

As they journeyed through the forest they met 
a deer, and addressed him: 

''We wish to borrow something of you; we 
would like to borrow your eyes." 

"AH right," said the deer. 

"Here is some moss to be eating until we re- 
turn with your eyes," and the deer lay down 
and the boys took out his eyes and placed them 
in the man's head. 

"Can you see?" they asked. 

"Yes, I can see something, but not very well." 

But the boys thought the eyes were too big, 
and not becoming to the man; so they took the 



/.\/)/A.\ STORIES 1». 

(•\es bacK. and thanked the deer [or lend nii 
them. Soon they met a bear and said to him: 

"We want to borrow something ol you; we 

int to borrow >'our eyes. 

"All riiiht, said the bear, — and the boys at 
once took them out and put them into the man's 
eye-sockets, and he looked ver\' wril, and said; 

"I can now see." 
V\ (• wdl leave these eyes in his head. 
iiUreed the boss. 

TIk'V returned home lor the niiiihl, biil madf 
no mention ol the man. 

harU' the next rnormnti ihrs hurried back a- 
\ln\n. 1 he\" asked the man in which direction 
the woman went with the stolen e\es, and how 
lar away she lived. He [)ointed but said: 

"Her dwelling is a i^reat distance away. 

"I nclc. we are tJoinii after your eyes,' — and 
into (he forest they plunUed. 

Many days and niijhts they lra\ «-led. reachinii 
at lenjith a ^reat lake skimmed o\<'r with ice so 
thin that it waved up and down with the water. 

The boys found a pod. and. placinji it on the 
ice, stepped into it — for it became larife like a 
canoe — i\ni\ san^: 

"Let the wind blow and lake us across the 
lake." and the wind blew and the pod skipped 
to the other side. 

On landing, the\' iound the woman s house. 
'Sla\- here." said one of thel)o\sto the other. 

ind I u ill jlo to the house. She will run alter 
me. Hide here, and w hen she chases me [)ast 
this s[)ot. hit her with the ball." 



17 INDIAN STORIES 

The boy crept up to the bark-house, and the 
woman sat by a fire braiding human hair into a 
cape, and she had hve human eyes worked into 
the shoulders of the cape. They were the eyes 
of the bhnd uncle. As the boy stood gazing at 
her both of his own eyes fell out into his hand. 

He commanded one of them to go back to its 
place, but held the other in his hand and said; 

"Let one of uncle's eyes come out of the cape 
into this empty socket, " and it did so. Then he 
took his uncle's eye out and held it in his hand 
and put his own eye in its place. He next took 
the other eye out, and the second eye of his un- 
cle flew to that socket. He took it out, held it in 
his hand, and put his own eye in its place. It 
was all a very trying operation, but he had suc- 
ceeded in capturing his uncle's eyes. 

As he hastened away, she sprang at him with 
a club, but missed him. She chased him past 
the hiding-place of the other boy. The ball flew 
out, hit her on the head, and she fell lifeless. 

They dragged her body into her bark-house, 
set fire to it, and remained until everything was 
consumed. They re-crossed the lake in the pod, 
and hastened to the house of the man who was 
wearing the bears eyes. 

On the way they found the place where their 
other uncles had been destroyed by the hurri- 
cane. The bones of all their people were there, 
the bones of their grandfathers and uncles. 

They arranged the bones in order, and, start- 
ing back, made a quick run and jumped over the 
piles of bones, and sang: 

"Let these people rise ! Let these people rise ! 



/.V/V.I.V STORIES \^ 

Ilif hurricane is coniinij and the trees w'ul lall. 
Hf (luick ! Be cjuick. 

At onje the people arose, and were \er\ ^lad 
to see the boys. All went to the wigwam of the 
nian uhose eyes had now been rescued, and the 
hoys saifl; 

"Uncle, we ha\e found >our eyes, and have 
brought back your brothers to life. 

He was overjoyed. 

They then look out the bear's eyes and |)ut 
the man s o\\ ti eyes in their places. The people 
\^ ere all well satisfied, and said to the boys: 

"We ^^ ould now like to see your mother. 

"^'ou shall see her. " said the boys, "but first 
In lis take ihrse eyes back to the bear. 

S(» tli(\ returned the bears eyes, and thanked 
luin for th»*m. aiul promised, as a reward for his 
kmdnes.s. never to hunt or hurt an>- of his family. 

"liut how shall we know." intjuired the boys- 
who belongs to your family? 

1 he bear answered; "The smoke from our 
lirrs all«r this shall always go up in a straight 
column, and the s.noke from the fires of all oth- 
er bears shall spread out like a Hat cloud. In 
this wa>' \()u ma>' know us. 

At once the boys now set out for home. 

The old grandmother eagerly asked where 
llic\ had been so long, for her wam|)um-string. 
as IS always the case in time ol griel or danger, 
had dragged low in the ashes in their absence, 
and she kiH'w i)\ that that the l)o\s \n ere in a 
dangerous .situation. 

They told her all. and she praised them. 



19 INDIAN STORIES 

The next morning they all went to the bark- 
house of Restored Eyes, and there they were 
contented and happy. They thought it best to 
remain there always, and make a settlement of 
wigwams, and not go back to the grandmother's 
house, and as she, too, was pleased to remain 
at the new home, they dwelt there in harmony, 
and became a mighty people. Na-ho. I am done. 




rflAPTFR III 
M AdAiiAs n<)ksi;sii( u; i \i.i. 

'-pHK LKGEND is. that a beautiful Indian 
I maiden was bound b>' some law to marr>- 
an ufily. wrinkled, uncouth Indian. The 
<'ontrarl had been ratified, and there was no es- 
cape ff)r her. So. just before the day that they. 
b\ tribal Ia\N. were to be bound as one, she 
spranti into a bark-canoe and paddled it far out 
upon the shootintf waters of Niajjara. Down, 
down the uil(] rapids, and oncf the surjjinjf sea 
of Hashing waters sped the canoe with its prec- 
ious freijfht. 

1 he palron-deit\ of the harvest, the "cloud- 
makinU. and "ram-jliving Heno. dwelt in the 
cave b«-hind th«' falls. He saw the maiden fall- 
ing, and llew out-for he had massive winjis-and 
cnujiht her ere she struck the rocks below. She 
dwelt lor mati\' moons in the abode of Heno. 

\\ hile ther.*. he taught her many thin^js. He 
lold her what sh<* and her tribe had sou^jht for 
.\<'ars to know; w h\' it was that her people suf- 
fered ev<Ty SI)rin^J from the inroads of a fearful 
pesldcncc. I Ic explained that a serpent w as the 
cause; that tins serpent had his slim\- haunts un- 
der the setllrinent, and that he poisoned the wa- 
ters of th<> streams that jjreat numbers of the In- 
dians mijiht be destro>ed because he fed upon 



21 INDIAN STORIES 

the bodies of the dead, and such was his appe- 
tite that deaths by natural causes did not supply 
his need. Heno then brushed his wings, and 
bore the Indian maiden to her home. She told 
her people the cause of their suffering, and ad- 
vised them to change their residence. They did 
so, moving many corn-hills''^ towards the great 
lake. (Lake Ontario). 

The serpent, robbed of his feast, glided forth 
noiselessly after the departing people. Heno, 
who handles the storms and carries thunder-bolts 
of all sizes in his pouch, hurled one at the mon- 
ster. The shores and hills were shaken, and a 
terrible conflict ensued. Heno found that his 
first bolt was too small, but he feared that a lar- 
ger one would stun the deer in the wood and 
the fish in the lake, but he did not hurt the ser- 
pent, and, becoming alarmed, he selected two of 
the largest in his pouch, and finally slew the 
monster. His body extended more than a mile, 
and, swinging his tail around in the agonies of 
death, he swept up great hills of sand. 

Rolling down the rapids, the serpent's body 
lodged upon a rock, and piled the waters moun- 
tain-high, and the shelving rock gave way, be- 
hind the coiling mass which stretched from 
bank to bank, and thus was formed the horse- 
shoe bending of the Falls. This is the legend 
of the Senecas. 



* A corn-hill, Indian measurement, was about 
three feet. 



CHAPTER I\- 

M A X W 1 n I -< ».\ LV-T\V( )-FKATII KHS- 
CLOSl.-KH.KTHKK IN-HlS-CAl'- 

\ f ANY MOONS atfo. there lived m tlieir 

1^1 own wigwam, an uncle and his nephew, 

Th«.' uncle s name was Do-hah-da-ne 

Uah, that is, "Man-wifh-only-two-feafhers-close- 

totiethrr-in-his-cap. '" The nephevs s name was 

} l»)s-h<'h-vvah-di-tfah-hoh. "Scorched-bodv . 

Hr re -eivcd this name because he was m the 
liaf)it of l\in(j so close to the lire that he was 
fore\ er scorc-hmii himself. 

I hese l\\() lived alone. 1 h«Te was nohody 
nerir ilirin. I lie i)ephe\\ had never seen any 
person hut his uncle. This uncle uas a great 
hunter, an(i while he was oH for jfame, the boy 
!«>• asleep by the lire* L\ er> niijht the hunt<*r 
rt'turru-d to the uii^wam and he alvs a\s had an 
• ihundance of meat. Soon the nephew became 
larifer and stronger so that he could assist his 
unch' 111 carrying home th«* meal. 

it was nlwa\s considered a s\\ln of n ^reat 
fiunter \^ hen a w igw am w as lined with se\ «ral 
la.\'ers ol meat struniJ on poles to dr\ . This un- 
cle s w igw am w as full of meat overhead. 

The bo\' had now become a younji man. 

The unch* ow ned \ er\ \ aluafile lurs and skins 
w Inch he had laid aw n\ for the pleasure of \isit- 
ors if an\- should ever come. The nephew was 

It was u.sual to wear one feather or more than 
lud. Se«' the pictures of Mrs. Jeini.MHi in this l»<»ok. 
To wear onl\ two feathers was a sign of (dhlity. 



23 INDIAN STORIES 

not allowed to use the good furs. He lay on an 
old bear-skin right in the ashes, and his hair 
was full of them. 

'*\ ou are now a young man," said the uncle, 
"and you must now begin to learn something. I 
want you to start early tomorrow morning for a 
certain place. It is towards the sunrise." 

Very early the next morning the uncle shook 
the young man from the ashes, and dusted him 
off, then gave him directions: 

"You must now start. After you have gone a 
long distance, you will see a large dead pine 
tree, and near it you will find a big log; sit on 
this log and listen to every sound, but keep still. 
Then hurry back, and tell me what you heard. 

He went, found the log, sat down, kept still 
and listened. He heard nothing, and fell asleep 
for he was never up so early in all his life. 

He was awakened by a strange squealing un- 
der the log. He listened. Soon it stopped. He 
had never heard such a sound, and thought it 
must be what his uncle sent him for; so he hur- 
ried home to report. He was in such haste that 
he stumbled on the way, and, on reaching the 
wigwam, he fell flat upon the ashes. 

"Uncle ! Uncle ! I have heard something ! 
As I sat on the log, all at once" — 

"Hold on, nephew, hold on ! Let my tobacco 
burn first," and he filled his pipe and lighted it. 
"Now, nephew you may commence; what is it 
you have heard?" 

"As I sat on the log I was sleepy. I heard a 
strange voice; it said:" — and he mocked it. — 



/\n/A.\ STOR/hS 24 

On. nephew, nephew !" cried the uncle in 
(lisfiust. "that was nothing hut a mole! Try it 
again tomorrow." 

So, early the next morning, he returned to the 
!o^, and said to himsell: "1 wonder what 1 will 
hear this time." 

All at once he heard; "Chir[). chirp, chirp, 
peep, pe<-p, peep, right o\er his head in the top 
of the dead pine tree. 

I here, that must he what uncle meant." 

So he hurried home, stumbling along until he 
reached the door, then hi- fell upon the ashes. 

I ncle. I have he-nrd it this time ! As I sat 
on the" — 

I {old on, n«*phe\N. hold (m. Let m>- tohacco 
hurn lirst, iind h«- Idled nml lu(litfd Ins pipe. 

Now \()u ma\ commence. \\ hat was it \ f)u 
heard?" 

"As I sat »>n the log I heard right ovtT me: 

Chirj). chirp, chirp, peep, p«'ep, peep. 

"N«'phew, slop! I hat was nothing hut a hird. 
^ ou should know IxMter than to listen to moles 
and hirds. Tomorrtiw nou must tr\ again. ' 

Before da\light the next morning his uncle 
dusted him oil nnd sent him again. 

H\ this time he had made a w t-ll-healen trail 
to the log, so that he went without stumhling. 

R«'aching the log, he sat down, and suddenly 

'Tu-whit, tu-\\ hoo, sounded loud close hy, 
and this strange* voice frightened him so that he 
ran all the \s a\ home. Out of hreath. he l)ursl 
info the wigwam and fell upon the ashes again. 

"Unrle. unele ! 1 know I hn\e h.-.-ird it this 



25 INDIAN STORIES 

time. I was sitting on the" — 

Hold on, nephew, hold on. Let my tobacco 
ourn first. ' So he Hghted his pipe. 

"Now, nephew, I am ready. What was it?" 

"I was sitting there thinking what you could 
mean, and all at once I heard; 

Tu-whit, tu-whoo.' Is n't that it?" 

"You foolish boy! That is only an owl. You 
must go again. " So he went the next morning. 

'What can uncle mean ! It must be something 
very strange. I will not mind birds any more. I 
will stay here and find out what it is. I will nev- 
er leave until I know. " 

At day-dawn he heard a faint sound which 
seemed to come from a great distance. It was a 
very strange, but sweet voice. 

"I must listen, for this is surely what uncle 
means, " whispered the nephew to himself. 

And he was right at last. It was the voice of 
a woman. She was nearing him. She was sing- 
ing very sweetly. The nephew was charmed. 

He listened to her words, and said them over 
to himself so as to repeat them to his uncle. 

These were the words; 

"Wa-eh-dah-noh-gwah-gwaeh do-hah-da-ne- 
gah." 

Having learned the song, the nephew ran for 
home at the top of his speed. It was daybreak, 
and the wild birds filled the woods with sweet 
notes. He entered the wigwam and fell into the 
ashes once more. In a hoarse whisper he said: 

"Uncle ! Uncle!" — 

"Wait, wait, nephew. Let my tobacco burn 
first," and he lighted his pipe and took a whifF. 



/.V/V.LV STOR/HS 26 

"Now. nephew, ^o on." and he drew nearer. 

"As I sat"— 

"D«) n't (tdl that; tell what you heard." impa- 
tiently urifefl the uncle. 

"Well. I heard a voice at a jireat di^tanc-e. It 
saun very sweetly. I" — 

"I ell me. nephew, u hat did the voice say.*^ 
and the uncle mo\ed nearer still to his nephew 
and for^^ot to whilT at his i)ipe he was so anx- 
ious. 

"I nclf. I i.-iuned the sona. She SHii^: 

W a-rh-(lah-nol)-ifwah->iwaeli do-hah-da-ne- 
Uah. (I am t^oinu' altrr a hushand. the man of 
on l>'-t u ()-!(• nlhers-close-toUet her- in -his-cap.) 

'/\h. m.\ nepheu . that sounds jiood ! T hat is 
what I sent nou for. I am ihr our called Do-liah 
da-ne-ifah. 

This was the lust tune the l)o\ l<n«-\s his un- 
ch' s name, and he xsoiuh-red wUy that name 
\s as iii\ en to him. 

"I u ill now tell you. said the uncle, "what 
this m -ins. Two women are cominjf here soon 
from a far-dislanf wikiw.un The\ will come to 
make me the hushand ol one of thrm. This is 
our custom.' 

I Ic hejian to slick up the room with the hem- 
l<ick-l)ouiih hroom. He hrou^hl out his hest skins 
and rohes. and also his head-dress ornamented 
\vith colored porcupine (juills. and with t\NO ea- 
vile s fealht'rs stuck close tojiether in it. 

"That must he why uncle is called Do-hah- 
da-nr-kfah. for I see the cap with only two ca- 
lcic s leathers, and they are close toijether. 



27 IND'AN ST DRIES 

His uncle also took out a beautiful tobacco- 
pouch and a new pipe. Everything was changed. 

"Nephew, they will soon be here, and I wish 
to advise you what to do. When they come in 
do not bs observing; turn your face in the op- 
posite direction, and do not stare at them for you 
are very dirty." 

The nephew felt very badly; he felt below 
his uncle. They heard footsteps. The women 
had come. So great was the curiosity of the boy 
to see a woman that he turned around. 

"There, you've commenced to stare," growled 
the uncle — and his harsh words to the boy dis- 
pleased both of the women, so that they turned 
their minds from the man to the nephew. — 

The uncle, finely dressed, asked the women 
to sit down by him, one on each side, and the 
boy said to himself: "Uncle is very stingy. Why 
doesn't he let one sit by me?" 

The uncle threw the old bear-skin over into 
the corner where the boy was and asked the wo- 
men to take his seat, but they paid no attention 
to him and so he lay down and went to sleep. 

The women dusted the boy and spoke kindly 
to him and pitied him. 

The women then returned home. On looking 
about the room the boy saw no fine robes but the 
same old things. He saw a basket and knew the 
women must have left it. His uncle said: 

'My nephew, I will now tell you the whole of 
this matter, it is of no use to hide it any longer. 
They have come for you and not for me. They 
brought a basket of bread, two loaves, in token 



/.\7;/.!.V STORIES 2S 

(>{ your marriage to the younger sister. W hen 
our people wish to marry a daughter to a \oung 
man. they bear loaves of corn-bread to the fath- 
er and mother of the young man. You have no 
father and mother so the older sister brought the 
bread to me. and she also brought her youngest 
vist«-r. They have lefi the bread as a sign that 
you arc betrothed to th«* younger sister. Here 
ar<* two loaves of rorn-bread. and the>- are tied 
l()g<'lher with cf)rn-husks. and that makes them 
wedding-ri'ke. II >ou bite out a nK)uthlul it wdl 
br your answer to them that you accept the of- 
fer and are well pleased.' 

The nephew immediateK- took two large bites 
to nssnrc the uomen (A his acceplanc*'. 

' I omorrou lh«'y will relurti to examine tin- 
lo.if for their answer, and we must not be here 
when they come. You must go to tln-ir abode in 
ten (la\s. 1 hi'i is our custom. I will now gi\«" 
\()u ibr power to bec(»me a great hunter such as 
I UiiVf brcii. W hfti N ou shoot an arrow. ne\er 
|)ick It lip nu.ii'i. but when >r)ur supply runs low 
grasp tb()s«'\ou ba\<* Irft and draw them across 
your h'fl nrm, and \<iu will have >our full (juiver 
of arrows. And now briore you go I want \()u 
to lurnish me with venison and bears meat l<. 
last me a long time." 

[ le went to hunt and \visb<-d lor deer and all 
kinds of bears, and gr«'at throngs of them came 
as if glad to fall brfore him. 

"W'rll, nepheu, \()u ha\e killed all the deer 
and Ixar s I <ha\\ need for a long time. It is time 
for \()ii lo start on Nour journe\-. ^ ou should be 



29 INDIAN STORIES 

there the same time in the day that the sisters 
reached here. Do not stop by the way. A man 
lives in the forest by the name of Teh-do-oh-ho- 
is-sah, " M an-with-the-woodchuck-skin-leggins, ' 
He will contrive every way to take your atten- 
tion, and it will be hard to resist him; but do 
not pay any heed to him or to small game. Go 
straight ahead. I hang this wampum-string by 
the fire, and if you are in trouble this string will 
stretch towards the ground; if you are nearly 
dead, it will lie flat on the ground." 

He gave him his costliest suit and his best 
headdress on which an eagle was perched. He 
brushed the eagle, and he spread his wings and 
screamed. He also gave his nephew a tobacco- 
pouch and a new quiver full of arrows. 

"When you smoke throw your pouch down 
and do not be vain or put on airs." 

He gave him a pipe with two birds on the top. 

'When you throw down your pouch it will a- 
rise a fawn; touch it, and it will go back to a 
pouch. Whenever you wish to smoke, these two 
birds will fly to the fire and bear you a red-hot 
coal and light your pipe." 

The nephew started early the next morning 
and traveled all day. Suddenly he heard a voice 
and saw a shabbily-dressed old man running 
around a tree. 

"This must be the man that uucle warned me 
about," thought the nephew, and he hurried on. 

"Nephew, nephew, can't you stop long e- 
nough to help a poor old man kill this animal?" 

But he kept right on. 

"Nephew, help me," cried the old man. 



/yp/AX STOR/hS 30 



"\\ hat hurt will it do if I shoot from where 1 
am? he thout/ht. and he killed the animal. 

VV ait. said the man, "I am goinjj ycur way 
and I will be company foi you. I know \v here 
>ou are goiriii. You u dl not jjet there to-da\; it 
IS too far Stay with me and a.0 at daybreak." 

f le Cf)nsentrd to stay and they built a lire. 

The >ounii man fell asleep b> the u arm lire, 
atid (juickly the old man sharpened a hickory 
.slick and drove it douri his backbone. 

The nephew screamed and coutjhed. then 
ifrew faint and (juiet. and th<* man exchanged 
clothes w ilh him and went off multeritiii: 

' \\ h\' did n t this foolish fellov^ know enough 
to lake his uncle s ad\ ic*- I 

lie put on th«' eaulr-lu-address but the eatile 
refused to scrrrim for the imposler. 

<: -A- ■■:■ 

I lie >()unu man did not ct)me as the peoph* 
«\|)ected. but they thcmiiht he would be there 
the n«*xt day and so all their ifuests remained. 

I he tv\o sistfTs had four brothers who went 
out to wrilch; there \s as a man.anci the cry arose: 

"Me IS cofiunjl! He i> coming! 

I he old man had come, but he pretended to 
be the nepb«*w. but the eajjie (bd not scream and 
all wire surprised at that. Me entered the set- 
ih-mrul. and took the best s«-al between lhetu< 
sisIjts. I he youniier said to herseli: 

"This IS not the nephew !" and she arose in 
lireat indi^'nation. and whispered her thoughts 
to her fatlu'.r. the chief. I he older sister paid 
him Ureat attention. Sin- ihoujiht he would make 



31 INDIAN STORIES 



her a pretty fair husband, and, as she had been 
looking for a husband tor many moons, she 
took him. The younger sister went to the corn- 
field to husk and braid corn. At night, as all the 
guests sat in the firelight, the old suitor boasted 
of his exploits. He wanted to smoke, and asked 
for a deerskin to spit upon, 'Tor,'' said he. 
"whenever I spit hundreds of wampum beads 
equal in value to human beings will rattle over 
the skin." It seems that he knew what power 
the nephew had. The old mother brought out a 
choice skin. He threw down the pouch, saying: 

"Get up, pouch, and walk around the fire." 
But it lay there nothing but a lifeless pouch. 
"My pouch is bashful," he said. 
He filled his pipe, and ordered the birds to 
get a coal from the fire, but they did not move. 
"They also are bashful," he said. 
Everybody looked for his wonderful wampum 
beads; but not a bead came. He put up pouch 
and pipe, and all were disgusted- 

Next morning he went hunting, as it was the 
custom for the bridegroom to supply the com- 
pany with meat. 

He killed a cross-fox. it was the only game 
he ever killed, or ever could kill. 

All were surprised that he brought such poor 
meat, and decided that he was an imposter. 

The people gathered to taste his game. He 
told his wife to make a soup and give it to the 
guests, but when it was passed around they said 
they were not hungry just then, and would save 
it for their breakfast. He devoured it himself. 



L\P/A.\ sroH/Ks 32 

He wanted to smoke again and did so bul 
uuli no belter success than before. 

wben the >ounger sister reached the curn- 
h«'ld the third njorning she found a very sick 
man there; he was ver\ pale. 

He looks like th<' man I was to niarr>. He 
'pears to be asle<-p- 

She kept stdl. She saw his e>es opening, and 
s|M)ke: 

You must be \fr\ sick. 
Y« s, I am; what news hav«' youV 
An old man has arri\<'d who sa\s he is the 
nephew of Do-hah-cJa-ne-gah, but I know it isn t 
true. My sisirr has married him. ' 

"Ar<* \<)u tin- «m«- who w«-nt afirr tin- n« ph- 

^ fs, :iii(l I iliink \iui are tin- iirpht-w. 

It IS triir. I am he. I ha\«' be«*n overpow- 

<{| b> th<- man- )f-the-w oodchuck-skin-leggins 

because I disobeyed m>' uncle. These ar«- his 

< lollies. A slick is down m\ back, fie thinks I 

n .lend.- 

"I am ulad I found \()u. softK whispered the 

Indian maiden, as he rested his head on her arm. 

She w hispered strengthening words to him. 

iIk'H hasl«Mied home and returned bearing him 

■ ....I. 

1 he \()ung man s unch' was tfeeply mourning 
and his w ampum-sirmg \n as drooping low. rie 
made a cr\ . poured ashes on his head, and end- 
• d \Niih ibis sonu: 



33 INDIAN STORIES 



"Ten summers shall pass, nephew, before I 
shall give you up. " 

The young man said to the girl; 

"I have a plan; keep it secret. Tell your fath- 
er that a man in this neighborhood has just had 
a dream, h was told him in the dream that he 
and the man-\vith-the-woodchuck-skin-leggins 
must go into a cauldron when the sun is at mid- 
dle sky tomorrow.' 

She told her lather and he announced it to 
the imposter, not telling him who had the dream. 

"I am ready to meet any man in the cauldron 
any tmie," he boasted. 

The girl wrapped her lover in a blanket to 
hide his clothes, it was announced that the man 
who had the dream was present. The people 
built a wall about the cauldron, and roofed it 
overhead, poured water in, heated large stones 
very hot and rolled them into the water. The 
men entered, and the door was shut. A great 
steam arose and softened the hickory stick and 
quickly the nephew drew it out and drove it 
down the backbone of the pretender. immedi- 
ately the nephew's power came back, his wounds 
healed, and the uncle's wampum drew up. 

The nephew put on his own clothes, and 
tossed the woodchuck-skins back to the old man. 

He rubbed the eagle, it came back to life and 
screamed, and all the people shouted: 

"This is the nephew." 

They gave no attention to the deceiver who 
choked and coughed himself to death. 



/.V/V.LV STORItS 



34 



The nephew went with his wife to the chief 

lio greeted them. The nephew w'shed to 
■Miioke, hut he made no hoasts. He took out his 
|)')uch. and up rose the fawn alive! It walked 
about as il c )ntented and ran around the lire 
sa>in;i: 'N\ah. n>ah, n> ah. 

He lillcti his pipe and the two hirds on its top 
llfw down to the fire and hore to him a hxt-roal 
and li;ihted his pipe. H<- spit, and hundreds of 
'•'•autiful wampum heads rallied on the ground. 

The women sprang for them and said: 

'( )h, how we do wish In* would spit again! 

I l<- went hunting the n<xl morning. He railed 
toi l)c(irs, and a great many appeared, enough 
for all the peoph'. He ne\l railed for deer, and 
iliey rame hy hundreds, and su|)plied them nil. 

.Again he smoked, and again he produced the 

impum heads. 

On the third morning he u t nt out without 
any particular ohject in \ iew. I he Indians say 
lliat if a person gf)es forth u ithoul any purpose 
hr will fall inl«) daniier. The nephew went out 

iihout any ohject; suddenly he heard a voire 

iIIuil: his nam<*. He turned, and saw two wo- 
iiKii \N ho w«'re witches. I le turned awa\'. 

"Ill- seems to he hashful. Let us go down. ' 

( )ne chased him around a tree, and h<* tried 
• cscat)e. hut the other ran around the other 
u ay. They caught him. He was bewitched and 
put to sleep. The\ flew with him to the top of a 
large tre«'. I he\ shook him and h«* berame 
small and light. One of the witches pulled a 
cano<- from her pouch, and it grew large. They 



35 INDIAN STORIES 

put him into it and stepped in themselves, and 
the canoe ghded through the air for many hours 
and at last reached a spot called "The High 
Rocks. " Here the witches had destroyed many 
victims. The rocks were shelving like tables 
one above another high over a precipice. They 
placed him there and brought him to his usual 
size again. He lay close to the edge of the preci- 
pice, and could only look right up to the sky. 

At early twilight he heard a strange noise at 
his feet; it was an animal, and the noise was as 
il he were biting flesh and gnawing bones. 

He heard a man scream in agony. The ani- 
mal next came to him; it was a winged monster, 
a flying head, that now bit his arm and flew ofF. 

The nephew had not lost any of his power, 
so he rubbed the wound in his arm and it was 
well in an instant. 

"Now I know that these two witches own this 
animal, and feed it in this way." 

The next morning he heard a rushing sound 
like wind, and then a voice. A man appeared 
and in his hand he held a squash which he had 
baked in the hot coals, and which all the starv- 
mg victims knew was delicious. The man was 
blowing away the ashes from the squash, and 
that was the sound like wind. 

This is what we folks eat who live on these 
rocks," cried this flying tormentor. 

He disappeared with a whir. 

^ ^ij ;;; i|c 

The uncle had been happy in his wigwam 
until now. His grief returned. The wampum 



L\I)J.\.\ ^|i>!^Jh^ 36 

dragged even more than when the nian-with- 
the-woodchuck-skin-leggins drove the stick of 
hirkory down his hackhone. And now all the 
f)irds and h( asts seemed bent on torturing the 
poor old uncle. There was a pounding on his 
door, and a \oice cried: 

Uncle, uncle. I have come liome, and the 
uncle, with his head covered u ith ash.es. in sign 
of grief, would go to the door, only to see an 
owl st<*althil>' winging his w a>' to another lr««-. 

Again a heavy pnunding at the door and a 
\f)ice cried: 

"I am \()ur neph<'w. I ncle, I have come at 
last." And he would go to the d(»(,r. only to see 
;i fox sneaking anu)ng the hushes. 

In a few hours fluTe was th«* loudest knock 
of all. aiul a loud voie** cried out: 

l 'ncle, let m<- in. I am v our nephew . 

Hut h<* sal Willi howed head gray with ashes. 
I am v<»iir n<'[)hew. I ncle. are vou here f 
Yes, li«- answered, "hut are you reallv mv 
...phew? The vsampum drags, and l)> this I 
know ili.ii mv nephew is in gr<-at trouMe." 

l^ul I am vour nephev\." and he opened the 
door, onl.v t<> see a hear hurrving up a leaning 
tree. 

" 1 lu-v shall not deceive m«- again, and he 
eul :i hole m the door. "Now, whoev t-r sa> s that 
\\r is nephevN must [)ut his hands through this 
hole, and ii I am deceived again. I \v ill kill mv 
lormentor. 

The nei)hr\s on llic locks was all lliis time 



37 INDIAN STORIES 

encouraging his fellow- suflFerers. 

"Cheer up," he said, "I will rescue you. I am 
going to destroy this animal and our tormentor." 

He heard the dragon coming; saw his two 
great blazing eyes, and, taking aim, shot an ar- 
row and broughtthe monster down. He plunged 
headlong among the rocks and was dashed to 
pieces. Their tormentor came again, holding a 
baked squash, and crying: 

"This is what we eat" — and "whiz" went an 
arrow into his mouth just as he was biting ofF a 
piece, and he dropped the squash and tell dead. 

Then the nephew sang: 

"Ga-na-do-deh, Ga-na-do-deh, O Hemlock, 
grow, O Hemlock, grow," and at once there a- 
rose from the dragon's brain a hemlock tree. 
Whenever he sang, the tree grew; when he 
ceased, it stopped. At daybreak he could touch 
the top of the tree with his elbow. 

"Come," he cried to all the victims, "here is 
a hemlock tree for us to escape on." 

They came, he rubbed their wounds and all 
were healed. They went down the tree, the neph- 
ew last. The tree grew shorter at the top as the 
men went down, and \\ hen they stepped upon 
the ground the hemlock vanished. 

He led the rescued men back to his uncle's 
wigwam, and as they traveled, he thought: 

"I have been gone just ten summers. 

The wampum at the uncle's wigwam went up 
again, but his grief was so deep that he did not 
notice it. T he nephew approached the door 
not knowing what torments his uncle had 



RD 14t*p 



JMJLW STORIES 8S 

suffered. He pounded on the door and calleiJ: 

"I fiave come back to >ou, uncle. Ten suni- 
mer.s have passed away. I ncle. let us in.' 

"II yf)u are my nephew, put jour hands into 
the hole m the door. 

He did Ro. and the uncle, ihinkinii it was an- 
other tormentor, cauj^ht the hands and hf)und 
them last to^ielher with a thonji. and. ser/.inu his 
cluh. opened the door, and was just about to 
strike him a de;ith-blo\\ when he "xaw that he 
\\ as his nephe\\ . He dropped his club and told 
his nepheNN w h\ he had done so. 

I am ulad you have come back a({am. said 
the uncle, and the nephew show ed his friends, 
and the uncle \\ elcomed them, and sah\: 

"H<re ue will live toiielher. 

It was decided that the nepheu s wife should 
be brought home also, and it n as done. 

Such was the fate of [ los-h«--w ah-di-<^:ah-ht)l. 
( Scorched-Hod\ ). and Do-hah-da-ne-tfah, (man 
\N ith-(»t)l\ -tw r»-fcnlh«rs-(d()se-totiether-in-his-ca[) 

\a-fut. I am done 

'\'\\\. I\l)l W W \U-\\ llool- 



^ UN l)()l) we I Kill lu'ii. \ oil lu) \\ f. 

I Tbrrc (iincs) 
"^ oil liol) \\ t' IkiIi hfb. ( Three tmies) 
W «•«• \ nil. (Thr.-.- tmus ) 
\\ no-o-o-<)-o-«>-o-«»-()-()-o-o-o-( )-i\-ooop . 






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IISRARV BINDINO 



ST. AUGUSTINE 

'*■.. FLA. 

'^2084 



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LiBRARY OF CONGRESS 




010 524 268 2 



